His Corporate Claim

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His Corporate Claim Page 4

by J. D. Fox


  “Come. Bring the aunts.”

  “Why didn’t we get invitations?” His gruff voice grew rougher, and it struck me that he felt put out that Lucius hadn’t invited him. I don’t know what he’d expected, though. He treated Lucius like a red-headed stepchild. But someone had to smooth things over, so I did what I always did— cover for my brother.

  “Lucius and Talia wanted to elope. I didn’t think that a good idea, so I suggested to Lucius we invite our relatives. Talia has no family. Maybe she thought she’d get overwhelmed with our clan.”

  My father muttered irritably.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll be there. And my sisters would kill me if I didn’t bring them.”

  “Great, Dad. See you then.”

  He grumbled the words “impetuous” and “short-sighted,” and I saw Lucius was in trouble again. Maybe the entire family needed this wedding to get us to act better toward each other.

  Dad spoke up again.“What’s Talia like?”

  “She attractive and intelligent.”

  My father spoke his next words tersely with a thread of incredulity running through them. “Smart, huh? So Lucius picked a woman with brains. That’s out of character, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I think he’s tremendously lucky.”

  “Regardless, I want her investigated.”

  “Dad.” This was not going in a good direction.

  “Take care of it, Samuel.”

  I understood why Lucius found our father overbearing. But I am here to investigate this business before Dad brought in auditors, which could lead to more serious consequences for Lucius. Auditors don’t care so much about right and wrong, but rather for process and legalities. While I’m reasonably sure Lucius did nothing wrong, he could be sloppy, and auditors did not forgive sloppiness.

  I caught an Uber and arrived at the office at seven AM, only to learn that none of our team were early risers. I couldn’t log into the system, dashing my hopes of starting an analysis of the reports stored on the server, and sat, staring at my surroundings, trying to form a plan.

  Did Lucius leave his username and password in his desk? That would be trademark Lucius sloppiness. I headed in the direction of his office, knowing he wouldn’t mind me using his login info. But as I approached his door, I noticed that it was open, and a quick glance inside confirmed a familiar person ripping through Lucius’ desk.

  “Talia?” I said.

  She stood as her face turned red, as if I’d caught her in a theft.

  “Good morning.” I stood at Lucius’s office door and leaned against the doorjamb with my arms crossed. “Searching for something?”

  “Yes, I am. Lucius had me sign papers a couple of nights ago, and he said he’d give me a copy but he hasn’t yet. I need them.”

  “What were they?”

  “An employment contract.”

  Not a prenuptial agreement? Odd.

  “Why did he make you sign an employment contract?”

  “He was afraid I’d leave because...” she paused, seeming to catch herself. “Sorry, you should discuss that with Lucius.”

  “I’m discussing it with you.”

  “He was afraid I’d leave because your father gave you the Sales Director job. Lucius intended to give it to me before he got the word otherwise.”

  He did? This was news to me. In fact, it was because Lucius hadn’t offered a candidate for the position that my father slipped me in here.

  “I see,” I said. “Why do you need the papers now?”

  “Why shouldn’t I get a copy as soon as possible?” Her eyes blazed, and they looked so sexy I wanted to step behind that desk and—what? Nothing. I couldn’t do anything. She’s my brother’s future wife.

  “I didn’t say that,” I replied. “I was just wondering about the urgency, and why you couldn’t wait until Lucius returned.”

  “Returned?” Her face screwed up in confusion. Damn it, he didn’t tell her. What was wrong with him?

  None of your business, Palmer, I told myself.

  “Didn’t he tell you? He left town for a business meeting.”

  Talia frowned. “No, he did not tell me, but that’s Lucius.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “Why should I mind? He’s my boss, not the other way around.”

  “That’s an interesting perspective towards your fiancé.”

  Talia blushed again which colored her face prettily, but it still suggested she held something back.

  “I prefer to keep my work and private life separate,” she said as she stared at her fingers, splayed on the desk.

  “Yet you’re marrying the boss.”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants,” she said.

  “What do the other employees say about your engagement?”

  She stood straight and stared into my eyes.

  “They don’t know. We haven’t told them.”

  “You haven’t?” Strange that no one knew. Employees tend to snap up juicy gossip like an eagle snatches rabbits.

  She pursed her lips, and she looked so adorable I wanted to kiss her. How could I blame my brother for wanting those lips?

  “Lucius wanted to wait until he announced my promotion so people didn’t get the wrong idea.”

  “Wouldn’t employees feel that their boss hid an important thing from them? Our company has a strict policy against inter-office dating, precisely because it negatively impacts employee morale.”

  “That’s not in the employee handbook.”

  “I don’t know what Palmer Media’s handbook says, but Palmer Corporation is firm on that.”

  “Leave it to Lucius,” she muttered.

  Did I spot a chink in the relationship? Did Talia disapprove of her boss/fiancé’s actions?

  “Excuse me?”

  She flashed me a smile. “Was Lucius a handful as a child?”

  “Not as a child, but teenage Lucius was a hellion.”

  She laughed, the sound as clear and sweet as the tinkling of wind chimes.

  “I can imagine that. Give me all the dirty details; because as Lucius tells it, he was an angel.”

  “A fallen one,” I said.

  She smiled, and my heart warmed as if the sun shone directly on me.

  “That makes more sense. Well, I can see that I won’t find what I’m searching for here.”

  “If it’s really important, he probably put it in the safe.”

  “What safe?”

  My brother hadn’t told Talia about the safe? The plans for the office showed one. Did Lucius decide not to install it?

  “Pull the foot mat under his desk.”

  She bent over and, I couldn’t help lamenting that her rear faced the window.

  “What the— yeah, there’s something here. But there’s a combination lock. Damn it.” She stood up again. “I suppose that I’ll have to wait until Lucius gets back.In the meantime, I should get to work.”

  I spotted the coffee carrier on the desk with two coffees and three mysterious things wrapped in wax paper envelopes, and remembered that I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I pointed to it.

  “Is one for Lucius?”

  She blushed again. “Yes. It helps his work to get some morning coffee into him.”

  “Do you mind if I take it, since he’s not here?”

  “Not at all. Take one of the apple turnovers too.”

  I walked to the desk and noticed the sexy smell of her perfume while I poked at the eats in wax paper. Sadly, there were no breakfast sandwiches.

  “Why are there three turnovers? Does he take two?”

  “No, one is for my roommate, Eva. She works here too.”

  “So,” I said, “you don’t really keep the workplace and personal life separate, do you?”

  Talia’s eyes narrowed.

  “Eva and I were roommates before I worked here. She graduated college a year before I did, and when I graduated a sales job opened here.”

  “So, she’s grandfathered-
in, relationship-wise.”

  Talia frowned, and even that expression got my motor running. Damn. I needed to stop these salacious thoughts before I got into trouble.

  “I suppose you can say that, but I’ve worked damn hard here and I earned everything I’ve gotten here. I was actually looking for another job, but Lucius convinced me to stay. In fact, he insisted on that employment contract the day he gave me the ring. So don’t think that I got a Sales Manager position by schtupping the boss. I can assure you that did not happen.”

  She spoke the last words with such fierceness that I stepped back.

  “Hold up there, Talia. I did not accuse you of anything like that.”

  “Not in words, but your expression screams that I did something nefarious; either to get my job, or to get your brother to marry me. Well, you’d be wrong there too. Lucius pursued me.”

  “That sounds like Lucius.”

  “Damn straight it sounds like Lucius. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  She swept by me, spewing righteous indignation with each stomp of her heels.

  “Talia,” I said when she’d reached the door.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Don’t you want your coffee?”

  “Help yourself,” she said. “Just like you helped yourself to everything else.”

  Her heels clicked like gunshots down the metal stairs, and two things struck me. One, I’d ticked Talia off; and two, the idea of an angry Talia twisting under me excited me.

  I sucked in a deep breath. Forget getting into trouble. I’m already in, deep.

  Chapter Five

  Talia

  Wednesday Morning

  Oh God... I just went off on Sam Palmer— my new boss. This strange situation, of pretending to be Lucius’s fiancé to discourage Sam‘s advances, had rattled me and I lost my cool.

  ​Granted, riffling Lucius’s desk was not my best move. I’d needed some proof of my updated income for the new extended care facility, though I hadn’t needed it that day. The new nursing home had taken the insurance assignment to get her started, and I’m so very grateful they allowed me to bring her two days early. But it had ticked me off that Lucius had me sign the damn thing without reading it. Had I signed myself into white slavery for the next fifty years? I wouldn’t put that tactic past that bastard Lucius.

  Sam had startled me when he walked into Lucius’ office. The intensity of his eyes sweeping over my body shook me to my entirely too-gooey core. Did a man have to be so lickably dreamy?

  Tell me, how does anyone look that sexy at seven in the morning? Sam wore a dark business suit again; this time pinstripe, with a paisley cranberry tie. Taking in how his crisp white shirt highlighted the square cut of his jaw, his deep brown eyes, and dark hair, I thought I’d melt right into the floor. And when the scent of his cologne hit my nose, I couldn’t breathe; my knees shook, and got so weak so I could barely stand. I cursed the far distant female human ancestor that developed weak knees in response to male testosterone. Why couldn’t she have gotten the urge to bash him in the head with a club and drag him off to her cave to have her way with him? No. Instead, I’m forced to clutch at Lucius’s desk to remain upright.

  Biology is not fair.

  And someone needs to give Sam Palmer a copy of the memo announcing that Denver business attire is at most business casual, because I won’t survive with him looking that handsome every day. I’ll drool myself into dehydration, and that is never good.

  It embarrassed me that he’d asked all those questions with the intensity of a master interrogator. What right did he have to question my fake relationship with Lucius? He’d pried at the details about Lucius and me like a nosy aunt who wanted to know if you’d screwed on your latest date. Nor did he need to glance at me like a popsicle he wanted to lick: I was melty enough without Sam staring at me with salacious intent.

  But what can I do? March up to him and ask that he stop his eyes from raking my body with unrestrained lust? Demand that he stop looking good enough to eat? My cheeks flushed at that thought too. Because... damn it, I very much would like to lick all parts of him as if he were one of those caramel lollipops. What were they called? Sugar Daddies. Yep; to my everlasting shame, I wanted to lick Sam Palmer’s sugar daddy. This was so very wrong. He is my boss. He is also my fake fiancé’s brother. Sam Palmer is officially on my “do not call list,” now and forever.

  There was only one thing to do— avoid Sam Palmer. If I could remain out of his line of sight today, then I’m home free. I was off tomorrow, and Friday Lucius had things I was supposed to do. Then I can sail through the weekend, because my co-workers can form a protective shield between me and Sam.

  But then the bastard called me into his office and asked for my help. Call me the Queen of All Suckers, because not only do I want to lick Sam Palmer, Sugar Daddy; I simply could not resist his brown caramel eyes pleading with me to help him. Sitting in the chair warmed from his personal heat, with his hot breath breathing on my neck pushed me to the edge. It was a study in discipline and fortitude not to turn that chair and help myself to what would so obviously be staring me in the face. My lack of self-control terrified me.

  I answered his questions while my heart thumped like a bongo drum until I found the opening to leave. That was it. I cannot spend any time alone with Sam Palmer.

  I was so embarrassed about how I’d reacted that I purposely ignored him for the rest of the day. This involved a series of near misses, but I managed to stay out of Sam’s way. That proved easy because I could always hear him taking the metal stairs to the first floor and made sure I was elsewhere.

  So far I’ve hidden in the break room, the ladies room, and a conference room. I’ve done great in achieving my objective, but I have one problem; I’m running out of rooms to hide in. The next place would be the supply closet, but I don’t want to go there. I might have a secret thing for office supplies; and as kinky as that is, if Sam Palmer cornered me there, in the extremely small and heady atmosphere of ink pens, highlighters, and notepads, I might do something I’ll regret. I do not want to be that girl, who emerges from the supply closet with mussed hair, smudged lipstick, and a guilty smile.

  In a fantasy that refuses to quit my head, Sam Palmer presses his sexy body in his two thousand dollar suit against mine into the door of the supply closet. I feel his cock, which is huge by-the-way, against my hip and he asks if we have anything that will clean cum stains from wool. I say innocently that I don’t see any cum stains and he says in a low voice that weakens my knees, “You will if I have anything to do about it.”

  My computer dinged with an email notification and I shook myself to dispel my fantasy. Jessica, the sales manager for national print accounts swung her head inside my door as just I was about to open a missive from Lucius.

  “Talia, where is Lucius? I need him to approve some ad buys for a client.”

  “Talk to Sam. He’s the sales director now.”

  “I did. Mr. Palmer said ‘no’.”

  I stared at the email, and Jessica’s rambling faded.

  From: Lucius Palmer

  To: Talia

  Re: Friday

  Tomorrow I’ve scheduled you at the spa at the Ritz-Carlton Spa. You’re getting the whole treatment, so get there at 10:00 a.m. and expect to be there all day. Sam will pick you up there to drive you to Aspen—”

  Wait. What? Sam is driving me to Aspen? This can’t be happening.

  “Talia?” Jessica said imperiously.

  “What?”

  “Our new Sales Director refused approval of the ad expense for the Jimble Mattress account because they are ninety days behind in paying their invoices. I tried to tell him that Jimble always takes ninety days to pay and that if we don’t place the ads they’ll go elsewhere, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Jessica panicked at losing her most lucrative client, but it was her own fault. While collections are never the fun part of the job, our company can’t run without cash flow. Luc
ius allowed her to let clients slide, but it was never something I allowed my sales reps to do.

  “Lucius won’t answer his phone or texts, and I have to get these ads in.”

  “What can I tell you, Jessica? Sam is my boss too.”

  “Talk to him- he likes you. As the most experienced person here he’ll listen to you”

  Oh, hell no. Jessica had clearly escaped the looney bin that was her mind if she thought I’d stick my nose into this. Why had Lucius taken a hike on a day when Jessica needed his approval for weekend ads?

  “I can’t get in the middle, Jessica; it’s not my place. Palmer Incorporated made that clear when they sent Sam in to do the job.”

  “Don’t be bitter, Talia. It wasn’t Lucius’s fault his father picked Sam instead of you.”

  I was about to ask how she’d learned this when Sam came to the door.

  “I wanted to confirm. 4:00 PM Friday at the Ritz-Carlton, right?” he said.

  Jessica looked up at him like he’d dropped an atom bomb.

  I glanced at the text again. “Yeah, I guess so. But you don’t have—”

  “No worries, Talia. I’m more than happy to pick you up there. I assume you’ll have your suitcases.”

  Jessica gave me another evil glance, as if I’d conspired against her.

  “But—”

  “Mr. Palmer,” broke in Jessica. “I need to talk to you about Jimble Mattresses.”

  Jessica’s voice steeled into her “I’m not taking no for an answer” tone.

  “In my office,” said Sam. His face was unreadable, like a warrior going into battle. I pitied both of them, because if Jessica battled Sam I had no doubt that not only would she end up figuratively scarred and bloody, but that she’d give as good as she got.

  It was now 2:30 PM, and I’d forgotten to eat lunch again. As Jessica began to shout in Sam’s office, I decided lunch was a fabulous idea. I did not want to be in the line of fire when Jessica showed up in my office crying because she couldn’t get what she wanted.

  “Hey,” said Eva. “Where are you going?”

 

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